A/N: Sorry for the bit of wait with this one. Things got a bit crazy for me and then the site was being fussy. I'm so glad you are enjoying this story! I love to come and read all the lovely comments! One of the best comments I think a writer can get is hearing that people think your writing is in-character and that the people who read it can hear the character voices, so thank you so much! As always, I'm eager to hear what you think about this chapter! Blame anthfan for the ending. Those of you who read her stories will understand why! Thanks again!

Felicity found herself lost in her thoughts, and it wasn't until Oliver let out a soft sigh and moved to the side, running his hands through his short-cropped hair that she was brought back to the present.

"So what did they tell you?" she asked, making herself focus on the mission and Digg and not the feelings that were beginning to grow out of control.

"Deadshot has a hostage. He's been seen with her the last few days," Oliver relayed as he opened his eyes and walked toward the bank of windows looking out over the city. The sun was just beginning to set and Felicity knew they didn't have too much more time to figure everything out.

"Her...the agent...Lyla," Felicity filled in, brain churning with the new information. "So that means Digg is here on his own?"

"I don't know," Oliver ground out, clearly frustrated. "I don't understand why he would do that without telling us."

"You haven't seen him the past few months Oliver," Felicity began quietly, not wanting to place any more guilt on his shoulders but knowing he needed to hear this.

She sighed, hands clasping her tablet tightly.

"After the Glades….after everything kind of fell apart, he began to obsess over it - like it was the one thing he might be able to have control over in his life. And I understood that feeling. It's why I went back to the Foundry and started to draw up plans for it. It was the one thing I could try to fix…" she trailed off, thinking back to those days that were so dark; when she and Diggle had sought each other out for company.

She watched as the muscles in Oliver's back tightened, and he stood imperceptibly taller, her words taking their toll.

"He kept searching and I tried to help but he didn't want me getting too close. When he broke up with Carly, I saw how much it was eating away at him." She paused, shaking her head at the memories.

"He's literally put his life on hold until he catches him, Oliver," she said softly, "He needs to do this, and I think a part of him wasn't sure you would help him even though you promised...after the last time…"

The breath rushed out of Oliver at her words and she saw him brace his hands against one of the windowsills, head bowed low, and she rushed to continue.

"I know you two made up after that, but I think it's still in the back of his head," she said quietly. "So maybe he did come here by himself. But he can't face him alone, Oliver," she whispered, her voice cracking. "The last time he did that he was almost shot point-blank. Just like we had your back with Malcolm, he needs us to have his."

As her words trailed off, she waited for him to say something - anything.

She could see the tension that ran down his back and spine, and knew he was fighting those feelings of regret and guilt. Part of her longed to cross the room and comfort him, but she knew this was something he had to come to on his own. All she could do was wait, letting him know she was there.

When he pushed off the windowsill and turned around, all his emotions were laid bare before her - an open book for her to read.

Her heart ached at the sight and she wished she could ease some of that pain, take some of his burdens on herself to lighten his load.

"You're right," he eventually murmured, "I failed him before. I won't do that again."

"We," Felicity corrected him quickly. "We won't."

His eyes snapped to hers and he was shaking his head before he could get a word out of his mouth but she strode towards him refusing to let him cut her out of this.

"No, I'm coming," she almost yelled. "I'm coming. I'm not sitting here in this hotel suite while both members of this team are out there risking their lives. I'm coming. You can yell and scream all you want about how it's dangerous and after last night, it's too much, but it's not going to change my mind. You need me. I can navigate you through that building. We can get Lyla and Diggle out - together."

Oliver opened his mouth to protest again, but Felicity was in his face, eyes blazing. "My life, Oliver, remember?"

"Last night was too close," he growled, and she sighed.

"I'm coming," she repeated evenly. "You can either let me come with you or I'll find my own way there. But I'm going help Diggle."

Holding his gaze, she waited him out.

"Fine," he bit out.

They prepared in relative silence, but Felicity could feel the tension radiating from him. She felt the gazes he kept throwing her way and knew he was worrying - thinking about all the things that could go wrong. She wished she could do something to help, but she knew there was nothing she could do or say. He would worry regardless.

When she reappeared from her room, dressed in dark pants and a button-down blouse, her hair pulled back in it's normal ponytail, she was surprised to find him staring out the windows. He had changed as well, gone was his business suit and white dress shirt, replaced with black cargo pants and a black t-shirt.

They'd decided back in Starling City that they couldn't risk bringing his Arrow gear. The Arrow showing up someplace so far from Starling City the same week as Oliver Queen would raise too many eyebrows.

So the green hood and leather pants had stayed at home. However, Oliver had still chosen to bring his bow, and Felicity had ordered some of the same black arrows that Merlyn had used for Oliver.

He'd been surprised when she'd mentioned it, but she was adamant that nothing could tie the Arrow to anything that went down in Russia. He'd agreed and thanked her with a heavy sigh and a gentle touch to her shoulder.

She approached him softly - one glance at her watch telling her they only had a few minutes before they needed to leave.

As she passed the couch, she noticed the two bags of gear that Oliver must have finished packing - her tablet sitting carefully on top.

Not wanting to startle him, although he probably knew she was already there, she cleared her throat when she was within touching distance.

"We should probably go," she said softly, and watched his shoulders fall as he turned.

For a brief second, he let her see everything warring in those beautiful blue eyes. The worry, the anger, the grief, the determination - and then with one blink, it was all gone, locked tight behind a myriad of masks.

He nodded resolutely and he stepped around her, one hand falling to her elbow as he maneuvered past her. She knew he had more than enough room to get by, so this was a silent message of thanks.

The pad of his thumb swiped across the sensitive part of her elbow and she tried to ignore the spark the traveled from that spot all the way to her center.

Taking a deep breath, she followed him, watching as he grabbed the hooded sweatshirt he'd brought off the back of one of the chairs. He zipped it up and then grabbed the black leather jacket that she loved and threw it on over the top of the hoodie.

Dragging her attention away from him, she bent down and grabbed the two Bluetooth devices off the table. She'd ordered them from the front desk and they'd been delivered promptly.

"I programmed them to the burner phones we bought," she said, handing one to him, and he pocketed it.

Throwing on her sweater, and then the coat Oliver had given her, she grabbed one of the bags and headed towards the door, Oliver on her heels.

When she reached the door, she paused, and heard him stop quickly to keep from running into her.

This was it. If anything went wrong, there was a chance, they'd never see their friend again.

Her mind raced with unthinkable scenarios until Oliver's hand fell on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Slowly, it traveled down her arm to cover the fingers that had frozen on the door handle.

He was pressed flush against her now, and she could feel his breath ghost over her shoulder.

"We'll get him," he reassured, somehow knowing exactly what she needed to hear.

Taking a long, deep breath, she nodded and let him help her turn the handle on the door.

Once more, Oliver persuaded their driver to let him have the car for the night, and this time Felicity didn't ask what he'd told the man.

As Oliver drove, Felicity went over everything again - the plans, the Bluetooth devices, the satellite images - she checked and double-checked them until a hand landed over hers and held it tight.

When he parked the car, he let go, and Felicity quickly pulled out her phone and pulled up the thermal imaging she'd gotten from the satellite feeds she'd hacked into before they left the suite. After making sure their communications system was up and running, she took a deep breath, and gave him a nod. He pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt and Felicity couldn't help but feel odd at the image of him in anything but green.

Just before he climbed out of the car, her hand reached for his arm, and their eyes met in the darkness.

There were a mountain of things on the tip of her tongue, but staring at him now, the leather of his jacket cool and supple beneath her fingers, she couldn't find her voice.

"I'll be right back," he murmured, giving her hand a squeeze and then adding, "Lock the doors, stay alert."

She nodded, and released his arm. Once again, he waited until he heard the click of the locks sliding into place before he disappeared into the shadows.

Once she heard the connection come through, she began talking, pretending she was back in the lair, and this was another normal mission. Swallowing her fears, she started to lead him through the abandoned building.

"Looks like Deadshot is in the northeast corner," she stated quickly, eyes darting from the satellite images to the building blueprints. "I can't tell what floor he's on but it's close to the top based on the colors I'm getting."

Oliver said nothing, but she knew he heard. Everything went well until three splotches of red entered the building close to where Oliver was making his way to the staircase.

"You've got company," she hissed. "Two or three coming down the hallway. They'll be on you in five, four, three…"

Before she could even finish counting, she heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire and then an arrow being released.

The grunts and cries of pain she heard for the next few minutes kept her on edge, but she could hear Oliver's steady breathing and that kept her calm.

It wasn't until three more red splotches entered from behind him that she began to really worry.

"Oliver," she hissed. "Behind you!"

She almost jumped when he grunted, but then heard the last of the first three men fall as his attention was now turned to the men on the other side of the hallway. As she watched his form move, she realized with dawning horror that they were drawing him away from Deadshot. They were buying Deadshot time; probably paid by whoever had hired the sniper in the first place. The gala now in full-swing, though, and they were running out of time.

As she watched her satellite picture three red areas became clear in the northeast corner where Deadshot was apparently set up.

The first two were close together, but the third had shifted and was farther away.

When her connection to Oliver turned to static, her worry turned into full-blown panic.

"Oliver!" she cried, but got no response.

The tracker he wore in his boot still showed him dealing with at least one person, and she made to a decision.

Shrugging out of the heavy, expensive overcoat - knowing it would only get in the way, she climbed from the car. She checked to make sure she had the knife Oliver and Digg had been training her with, along with her phone, and then headed carefully for the building.

Somehow, she knew there wasn't much time left and she quickly made her way through the deserted and desolate halls to the staircase, using a different route than Oliver had taken.

The stairwell was almost pitch-black except for a few small windows where lights from the streets filtered in. Still, she was glad for the sensory training Diggle had done with her in the months Oliver had been gone.

Her hands were shaking as she climbed the last set of stairs and she saw that she'd managed to put herself towards the back of the room, closest to the lone red dot on her screen.

With a quick deep breath she peaked around the corner of the door into the dimly lit room. She could barely make out two figures near the window, one standing near a high-powered rifle, set up to aim out a broken window, while the other looked to be tied up in a chair.

Movement caught her attention and before she knew what was happening two strong arms wrapped around her mouth and waist, pulling her back into darkness of the stairwell. Her voice got lost somewhere in her panic and it wasn't until she heard the familiar voice whispering her name into her ear that she stilled.

Digg.

When they were out of sight, she whirled around wide-eyed, trying to make out his large figure in the relative darkness.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed, eyes darting around, more than likely looking for Oliver.

Felicity shook her head, quickly trying to snap out of her shocked state and find words.

"You...you just disappeared and Oliver and I were worried. We didn't know if you'd been taken or something else had happened…" She kept her voice as quiet as possible, knowing that if they were discovered, it would only end badly.

"Where's Oliver?" Diggle asked, ignoring her statement for the time being.

"I don't know. Our communication got cut off and then I figured out you were here and I couldn't just sit in the car if you were hurt or in bad shape...but I really didn't think it through completely." She began to babble and a hand clamped down over her mouth, cutting her off mid-sentence, and she was thankful.

"He's got Lyla," Digg whispered, pressing them both up against the wall, and peaking his head out to make sure Deadshot was still in sight. "It's a trap. This was all to lure me out. I don't know why, but I've been tracking him for a few days…"

Diggle's words ended abruptly as a bullet whistled past them, hitting the doorframe. A scream left her lips and then she was suddenly bodily tackled to the ground.

Deadshot's voice rang through the air.

"I know you're there. Better come out before the lovely agent pays the price…" His voice was eerily calm for a madman, Felicity decided, and she wasn't fast enough to grab Diggle before he stood and showed himself.

"Your friend too," Deadshot added, and Felicity felt ice run through her veins.

She saw Diggle grit his teeth but motioned for her to get behind him. With shaking legs, she did as he directed.

Deadshot walked closer, and in an effort to keep her behind him, Diggle began to circle left. Felicity stayed as close to his back as she could, her petite frame completely hidden behind his broad shoulders. She could feel the trembling in her entire body. Every nerve ending was firing and she had to clasp her hands together to keep them from balling up the material of her shirt.

Felicity could no longer hear the words being said. The only noise that filled her head was the sound of the blood rushing through her veins.

It was Oliver's voice echoing across the open space that pushed back the white noise pounding through her head. She heard her name and her eyes darted up just in time to see Oliver's familiar silhouette in the far corner and Deadshot's rifle aimed at her and Digg.

There was a cry from the corner - Lyla, and Digg's attention was momentarily diverted and Deadshot took his chance.

She moved without thought, her only instinct to protect her team. Two sounds echoed through the room simultaneously as she fell to the ground - an arrow slicing through the air and a gunshot screaming towards her.

She and Diggle landed hard on the ground, her ears ringing as she tried to push up from the dust-covered concrete.

Deadshot lay unmoving ten feet from her. Diggle had pulled his gun and had it trained on the man while Oliver suddenly came into view as he quickly stepped towards them.

A sharp, stinging pain coursed through her as she tried to sit upright and her hand fell to her side automatically. She hissed through her teeth, a sharp cry escaping despite her efforts to keep quiet.

Oliver froze halfway across the floor, his eyes trained on her with growing panic. When she looked down at her hand, everything stopped as she saw the blood that covered her fingers.

She felt herself gasp for breath as the reality of the situation hit her, white noise filling her head, and black dots blurring her vision. Her head whipped up to find Oliver, knowing she was doing nothing to hide the overwhelming fear coursing through her body.

His bullets were poisoned. She'd been hit. She was poisoned.